


Off to the Races

by moblit



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Actor!Changkyun, Alternate Universe (Los Angeles), Bitter!Kihyun :), Edging, Fun Work Environments, Hongjoong Is Fun And Silly, M/M, Miscommunication, Most of the additionally tagged characters are briefly mentioned or cameos, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Triple H are Triple H-ing Off Screen, happy ending in more ways than one, meet-hate, read author's notes for additional warnings but nothing crazy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:22:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26821342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moblit/pseuds/moblit
Summary: “I’m actually in a show.”“Really,” Kihyun said in a tone that indicated he really didn’t care, even though he was kind of starting to. Yes, Changkyun Im — he’d discreetly Googled him behind his book — was an up-and-comer, but he’d still had a hell of a lot more roles than Kihyun. Actual roles, not just TV infomercial and Corpse #2 bullshit, and Kihyun was tired of being barely able to get so much as an audition.He wouldn’t grovel, but Changkyun would still ask for his number by the time he left.
Relationships: Im Changkyun | I.M/Yoo Kihyun
Comments: 26
Kudos: 87





	Off to the Races

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cherishiskisa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherishiskisa/gifts).



> Hello I should preface this by saying that I only know most of these characters through my wife and her fics, so please take any issues with characterization to twitter user @paratazxis/ao3 user cherishiskisa :) 
> 
> There is one (1) light but non-negotiated sexual slap that both parties are extremely into, but be advised that it's there! 
> 
> For detailed warnings regarding the sexual content if you think you might be uncomfortable with rougher sex/sex work themes, click additional notes. Plus a little bit of bonus trivia :) 
> 
> listen to off to the races by lana del rey if you really want to get into the spirit

“Sorry — do I know you?”

Kihyun made a show of tearing his eyes away from his book — self-help with a Sartre dust jacket — gave the big-nosed, floppy-haired, coffee-holding and doughy-looking offender a slow, disdainful once-over, and said, “No.”

This didn’t seem to deter him. “Are you sure? You look really familiar — maybe we’ve worked together?” he continued, like Kihyun wasn’t giving him literally every physically possible signal to fuck off. However, Kihyun actually did recognise him — there had been a fuck ton of publicity recently. Changkyun something, former generic Hallmark regular, had been a shock casting choice as the new lead in everybody’s favorite mindless cop procedural. He didn’t let on, of course.

“I doubt it,” Kihyun said, turning his nose back down to his book. No matter how badly he needed a fucking break, he wasn’t going to take a handout, and especially not one from this village idiot.

“Well,” Changkyun said, at least starting to seem a little uncomfortable, “um, I actually came over to ask if I could sit here — all the other tables are full,” he explained.

Kihyun didn’t bother looking up again. “It’s a free coffee shop,” he drawled.

“Thanks,” Changkyun said, voice deep but somehow small. Jesus Christ, and then it was like he was _trying_ to be annoying — dragging the chair across the floor like an animal, adjusting it fifty times, even sipping his coffee like... like a _toddler_ when he was finally settled. Kihyun bristled.

His bristling continued for some twenty minutes. Changkyun had pulled out what was very obviously a script, and Kihyun wanted to punch him, but did not indulge himself. He couldn’t completely ignore it, though, and eventually said, “Should you really just have that out?”

“Huh?” Changkyun looked up at him, looking genuinely startled and somehow more rumpled than he’d been only moments ago. “Oh, uh, how did you know what it is...?” Did this asshole look _hopeful_? God, and Kihyun thought _he_ was a prideful actor — Changkyun Something was obviously desperate to be seen.

“It’s visibly a script,” Kihyun said. “We live in LA. Well, I do. If it’s just a shitty tourist souvenir or something, whatever.”

“Um, it isn’t,” Changkyun said, closing it, which could mean that he was heeding Kihyun’s advice or that he wanted to continue the conversation, and Kihyun couldn’t decide which was worse. “I’m actually in a show.”

“Really,” Kihyun said in a tone that indicated he really didn’t care, even though he was kind of starting to. Yes, Changkyun Im — he’d discreetly Googled him behind his book — was an up-and-comer, but he’d still had a hell of a lot more roles than Kihyun. Actual roles, not just TV infomercial and Corpse #2 bullshit, and Kihyun was tired of being barely able to get so much as an audition. He wasn’t going to just be nice to him for no reason, though. He’d make Changkyun work for it the way his stupid hair or god knows what else had worked for him to get that role. “You and everyone else in here, probably. Let me guess:” he made a show of scrutinising him for a second, “onlooker number six? Jogger that gets murdered?”

“Ha, no,” Changkyun said. To his credit, he looked at least a little uncomfortable. “Um. I actually lucked out. It’s a pretty big role.”

Kihyun hated false humility almost as much as he hated legitimised arrogance (in anyone but himself). There was no reason to not be up front, for god’s sake — no one was _actually_ humble, and not the way Wonho said no one was _actually_ straight. “Did you,” Kihyun asked. “Can I ask what show, or should I just read the script you’re waving around?”

“Oh, no one recognises me really, so it’s not a big deal,” Changkyun said. “It’s called _Memories of Murder.”_

“Never heard of it,” Kihyun lied. There was a billboard for it literally right across the street from the coffee shop, visible from Kihyun’s seat. To say nothing of the fact that it was one of the longest-running and consistently popular procedurals probably ever.

“Oh, really?” Changkyun said, smiling at him with that tiny... _coquettish_ mouth. “I actually hadn’t, either, before I got cast,” he said, conspiratorial, sheepish, mumbly. Kihyun hated him even more. He hadn’t even tried? A role that big just — just fell into his lap? _Him_?

However: Changkyun seemed interested in him, and at least as homoflexible as every other man in Hollywood, which Kihyun could work with. He didn’t close his book, didn’t want to scare him away by being too deferential and desperate the way Kihyun longed for future fans to be to him — no, he was no less than Changkyun’s equal, and in fact above him by far. He wouldn’t grovel, but Changkyun would still ask for his number by the time he left.

Kihyun was also a better actor; he smiled, careful of the way he moved his face and mindful of the way the light was hitting it, and breathed a laugh. “No kidding? Wow. I would ask if it was that easy for everyone, but then I guess we wouldn’t have any baristas within a hundred mile radius.”

Changkyun laughed harder than that warranted, which both pleased Kihyun and confirmed that Changkyun was both interested and stupid. “Sorry, that was kind of mean of me to laugh, but, yeah. It was surprising. Still don’t think I really deserve it.” He didn’t. “Anyway — I’m Changkyun,” he said, reaching across the table to offer Kihyun his hand.

He took it, his grip firm, Changkyun’s clammy. “Kihyun,” he said, which was true. “Nice to meet you,” he added, which was not.

“Nice to meet you, too,” Changkyun said, looking like a fucking — like an overeager schoolboy or something, how was he, in literally anyway, leading-man material? Kihyun was having a hard time believe he could even carry Hallmark’s worst. “I’m guessing you live around here, but you aren’t an actor,” he asked, teasing, having fallen into Kihyun’s carefully but simply laid trap.

“No,” Kihyun said, laughing and waving a hand dismissively. “I’m a law clerk. I’ve filed and therefore seen a lot of paperwork for some famous clients, though,” he said. It wasn’t like it was completely untrue — it just hadn’t been for the past five months.

“Yeah? Anyone I know?”

It was both a joke and a test. “Can’t say — _confidentiality_ ,” Kihyun whispered, and winked.

Changkyun’s cheeks went pink again, and he ran a hand through his hair, making it even... bigger. Kihyun, his round brush, his hair wax, and his taste in men were all horrified, but he kept his expression interested.

“That’s cool,” Changkyun said. “You’re probably a lot smarter than I am.” True. “Sorry, by the way — I didn’t mean to just...walk up and start talking to you like that,” he added, looking sheepish again. “I must have just seen you around. Do you — well, I don’t want to be weird and ask if you live around here,” he laughed. “Um, where’s your law firm?”

“West Hollywood,” Kihyun said, because the noise _WeHo_ made him break out into hives. “Son & Sons. One of the sons is now actually the Son, though.”

Changkyun snorted. “Do you have a business card? Just in case I get into some kind of legal trouble.”

There it was. Never mind that his ex was an Oscar winner, the fact that Kihyun had achieved this so quickly, that he could stop himself from smiling in self-satisfaction -- it all proved, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he _deserved_ the accolades and recognition he so craved. “To be honest, it’s my day off, and I’m not the kind of law clerk that cares enough to advertise for their firm,” Kihyun said.

“There are law clerks like that...?” Changkyun wondered to himself. He might be cute, really, if Kihyun could see past the trapezoid made out of dough stuck on the front of his face (he could not).

“You never know,” Changkyun said. God, Kihyun wanted to slap that puppy dog expression off his face, but instead he pulled out the Montblanc he’d stolen when he’d stormed out of the law firm, slid Changkyun’s script across the table to himself, and carefully wrote his name and his number, nothing else.

“For legal advice,” he confirmed, sliding it back over, letting his hand linger on the cover.

“Absolutely,” Changkyun said, smiling what looked as wide as that little mouth could go. Absently, Kihyun wondered if he’d ever sucked a dick.

“Anyway — _Changkyun_ ,” Kihyun said, like he was trying to commit his name to memory, “I do have to get going. I have dinner reservations in Malibu,” he faux-lamented, doing his best approximation of a pout as he slid his Montblanc, his book, and his laptop into their respective pockets in his leather crossbody.

“Hot date? Sorry — uh, sorry,” Changkyun said, looking down at the script, at Kihyun’s number.

“Don’t be,” Kihyun said, smiling in a way that bared his teeth. “I’m meeting a friend.”

“Oh,” Changkyun said, perking back up and promptly looking embarrassed by just how quickly he’d perked. “Good. I mean — it was good to meet you, Kihyun,” he said, smiling up at him. At the very least, he was enunciating a little bit more than he’d been.

“Call me,” Kihyun said, putting the strap of his back over his shoulder, standing up. “Or text me. Don’t make me regret giving you my number, though.”

“I won’t!” Changkyun said, but Kihyun was already walking out, and he had a personal rule of never looking back.

-

The most egregious lie of the afternoon had been the dinner reservations in Malibu, and mainly because Kihyun would literally kill for dinner reservations in Malibu. He would kill for reservations in fucking San Fernando Valley, but the only commitment Kihyun actually had that night was work.

“Hey, Wonho,” he said when he got in, all but slamming his bag into the locker he’d unofficially claimed as his, even though they were technically communal. He sighed. He really needed to start taking his aggression out on people rather than on the last few expensive things he owned.

“Heyyyy,” Wonho, who was shirtless, gleaming like a very pale but very glazed honey bun, and wearing heart-shaped nipple pasties, said, looking up from his phone to smile at Kihyun. Kihyun didn’t return it, which Wonho knew wasn’t Kihyun necessarily being rude. He continued, “I didn’t know you were scheduled today!”

“Yes,” Kihyun said, unbuckling his belt and stripping out of his blazer and button-up before sliding his robe on, tying it tight around his waist. Their work environment be damned, he didn’t like anyone to see his ass unless he was getting paid.

“You know I’ve seen your asshole, like, a million times, right?” Wonho giggled as Kihyun stepped out of his pants and carefully took his socks and loafers off.

“That’s still fewer times than I’ve seen yours, and all of them were against my will,” Kihyun said, which made Wonho say _awww_! “Are you scheduled any more today?”

“Yeah, but in, like, an hour. Gang bang,” he sighed dreamily. “So right now I’m just —“

“I don’t need to know about your butt plug, Wonho,” Kihyun stopped him. “And I’m running late,” he sighed, glancing up at the huge digital clock they kept in the break room. “Good luck with the gang bang,” he said on his way out, before Wonho could ask him why — Kihyun was never late, even in an industry where most talent and crew members were nocturnal and refused to keep a fucking schedule.

That was exactly what Kihyun walked into when he quietly opened the door to the main studio. The filming light was on, but pretty much everyone ignored it because they kept the nicest, least cum-stained furniture in there for the more elaborate sets. Kihyun was headed for a particularly plush chaise lounge, but stopped by the camera to watch the scene: Lucas, their latest gay-for-pay jock, was getting his dick jointly sucked by the twins. Kihyun had never had a scene with them together — vers, washed out twink on pair of freakishly flexible and debatably human twinks was, thankfully, too niche of a genre — but there was a rumour that Lucas, who to be fair was very stupid, wasn’t actually getting paid because Ten had hypnotised and lured him in or something. Privately, Kihyun considered Ten and Taeyong, not in that order, the second and third most terrifying people at Big Dragon Entertainment.

“Kihyun,” said Hongjoong — vice president, producer, occasional director, semi-frequent performer, and number one most terrifying person at Big Dragon, and not because he was technically Kihyun’s boss — before Kihyun could sit down. “We’re running a little over. Lucas has the craziest refractory period!” He said gleefully, laughing like a chaos entity. Currently, he was dressed in a visibly expensive red silk robe, multiple body chains, skintight mesh leggings, more rings than he had fingers, and no shoes. Kihyun’s couldn’t tell if he was wearing underwear or even filming a scene today, because he usually looked like that.

“It’s fine,” Kihyun said, pointedly not looking up from his phone but tilting the screen so that Hongjoong couldn’t see it. It wasn’t anything remotely incriminating — Kihyun just felt safer the less Hongjoong knew about his life. “Do I need wardrobe?”

Hongjoong stood on his toes to scrutinise him, face sharp in a way that worked where Kihyun’s didn’t. Kihyun didn’t scrutinise him back, per se, but closing his eyes would definitely be a sign of weakness, so Kihyun had no choice but to sort of look at Hongjoong’s inhuman lack of pores and frightening amount of teeth. “Did someone already do your base? I should fire them,” Hongjoong said, laughing in the direction of Kihyun’s face, his breath extremely lemon-scented.

“Yes,” Kihyun said drily. “Me.”

Hongjoong hummed. “Well, like I said, we’re running over! You’re doing straight-laced snob business man getting ravished by Jaehyun, so we’re gonna have some face shots.”

“Do you mean close-up shots of my face or close-up shots of my face being ejaculated on,” Kihyun asked.

Hongjoong only bared his teeth, ostensibly in a grin, and continued, “The suit’s waiting for you in the glam room. I even had it dry cleaned! Go on, go on — I think Lucas has at least one more in that monster cock of his, but I have plans later, so we’re finishing before nine if it kills all of you!”

Before Kihyun could even open his mouth to respond, one of their female production assistants came over and started asking Hongjoong about positions, since apparently she ‘was pretty sure they’d done everything humanly possible, and you can see what no one else can’. Kihyun didn’t stay to hear the rest; he just rolled his eyes and headed to makeup.

The makeup artist and hair stylist was on a very short list of people that Kihyun tolerated at work. Dawn kept to himself and minded his business; Kihyun was pretty sure he was way more interested in gore special effects makeup and only doing this until his Instagram really took off, which meant he didn’t care about the workplace drama, didn’t comment on what anyone was doing, and, most importantly, didn’t feel the need to make small talk.

“Hey,” Kihyun said, knocking on the open door; Dawn spun around in the makeup chair, clearly having been applying some sort of latex wound to his wrist. “Busy?” He asked, raising his eyebrows and inclining his head in the general direction of said wrist.

Dawn blinked at him and stood, clearing away all of his latex and fake blood bottles on the makeup counter. “No,” he said. “Accountant, right?”

Kihyun sat down, narrowing his eyes at his reflection. His base makeup wasn’t that bad. “Businessman is all Hongjoong said.”

“Yeah, but I kind of think of him as an accountant,” Dawn mumbled, clipping Kihyun’s hair back and wiping his makeup off with a Burt’s Bees towelette.

“Does it make a difference?” Kihyun asked, but Dawn just shrugged before he started re-applying Kihyun’s makeup.

He leaned back in the chair, relaxing a little for the first time all day. Maybe longer — Kihyun was known to sleep board-straight on his back — because meeting Changkyun was, in a way that was extremely irritating to Kihyun, the kind of small reassurance he hadn’t had in a while; reassurance that maybe he wouldn’t actually have to do this until he was an unmarketable hag. He’d stuck his phone back in his locker before coming to makeup, deeming the temptation to check his phone every five seconds too great, because he wasn’t about to look desperate. Especially if he had to film with his fucking ex.

Dawn did the usual, maybe a little more eyeliner than he would have otherwise (even Kihyun could admit that he really needed it if a camera was in his face) and carefully coiffed his hair. “I think the suit is tear-away,” Dawn said in his microscopic voice, spritzing Kihyun’s hair with organic hair spray. “Well. I know it is,” he admitted. “I tried the pants on one time because I’ve wanted tear-away track pants since I was a kid.”

Kihyun sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose since his makeup was still setting. “Did you try them on _today_?”

“Oh, no, it was a few years ago, don’t worry,” Dawn said, which actually made Kihyun worry more. He already had a problem with his own outdated clothes, and he was the only one wearing them (and certainly not constantly tearing them off/coming all over them); hopefully it would get ripped off sooner rather than later. Dawn took a step back, looking carefully at his work, rubbed some pomade in his hands and gave the front of Kihyun’s hair just a touch of curl, then nodded to himself. “Okay, you’re good to go,” he said.

“Thanks,” Kihyun sighed, inspecting his highlight in the mirror. “You know —“ it sort of made Kihyun nauseous to give other people compliments, but Dawn was probably one of the most harmless people Kihyun had ever met, so. “ — you’re...actually a good makeup artist. Or whatever that is,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the bloody maw on Dawn’s wrist. “Too good to be working here, anyway.”

Dawn shrugged. “I don’t mind,” he said, and Kihyun certainly wasn’t going to push the matter further, so he just sighed and grabbed the dry-cleaned tear-away suit from its rack on his way out.

-

The scene ended fifteen minutes behind schedule and with Kihyun covered in fucking Jaehyun’s come, and Jaehyun hadn’t even had the tact to apologise for it. In fact, emboldened by he fact that he’d had his tongue and his cock back down Kihyun’s throat or something, he’d recommended a fucking juice cleanse. Actually, what he’d said was:

“Have you ever tried a juice cleanse, man? They really detoxify everything, I think you could use that,” and Kihyun had smiled thinly through the man’s own come, cursing his existence.

After a shower — the showers were nice, and by far Kihyun’s favorite feature of working there, besides the great health care — Kihyun felt marginally more like a human person. When he got dressed and pulled his phone out to check it, he frowned at the three notifications on the screen from an unknown number, having momentarily forgotten that he’d halfway bagged an up-and-coming TV star.

 _hey this is changkyun,_ read the first, from an hour ago; then, sent twenty minutes later:

_changkyun im from la la land. idk how many changkyuns you know though haha,_ immediately followed by:

_la la land the coffee shop not the movie sorry_

Kihyun realized with some disgust that he was smiling at his phone, and justified it to himself as a smirk. He hadn’t expected such a quick response. Still, not willing to debase himself more than he already had at work, he didn’t text back until he’d dressed, driven his shitty Honda Civic back to his shitty apartment, changed into his home robe (a different, far superior robe — when he’d first started working at Big Dragon, he’d bought a luxe one with his first paycheck, then quickly realized that semen was the unstoppable force to his immovable object), and put his frozen enchiladas into the microwave. By then, Changkyun would have been waiting almost three hours, which was still not long enough, in Kihyun’s opinion, but he was feeling particularly pissy about his lack of an actual career that evening, so he had mercy.

_I don’t watch a lot of movies,_ Kihyun wrote back, _so I might have believed you. I might have even been impressed._

The phone chimed twice while Kihyun was determining if his sour cream was still good (it was not). Changkyun’s texts read:

_haha_

_did u grow up here? i can’t figure out why a lawyer who doesn’t watch movies would choose to live in LA_

So he _could_ use capitalisation. Maybe Kihyun could train him. Hopefully he just wouldn’t have to talk to him more than absolutely necessary. Nonetheless, he texted Changkyun the abridged, mostly true story of Kihyun’s coming to LA; he’d grown up in a suburb of Boston in a family with high expectations that included law school, Kihyun had gotten into UCLA with a big enough scholarship that they let him go, after he graduated, he hadn’t wanted to go back to Massachusetts; worse than that, he hadn’t wanted to go to law school at all.

It wasn’t exactly a sob story, but it was kind of a downer, particularly when they’d just started actually talking, so he added some bullshit about how much he liked the sun and how he’d always hated cold winters, how LA made him happy. The opposite was true, of course, but what was Kihyun supposed to do? Be honest?

_wow that’s a lot of pressure,_ Changkyun replied.

_you’re really brave for standing your ground anyway_

_i like the cold though_

Kihyun scoffed. “Go skiing with that TV money, then,” he muttered.

_Like I said,_ he replied, _I like it here. But is it offensive if I ask if acting brought YOU here?_ He even added a winky face, since he’d already made a career out of debasing himself and had nothing to lose.

_haha no actually_

_i grew up in toronto and did a lot of plays and stuff and they film a lot of shitty movies in canada for some reason_

_i got cast in a few then i started getting enough work here that it was cheaper to just move_

_even tho everything is so expensive lol_

Kihyun rolled his eyes. _So I shouldn’t seduce you and steal all your money — got it._

_haha. id let u_

_shit sorry i didnt mean to send that_

Kihyun grinned like the cat that got the canary, then in rapid succession remembered he had enchiladas and realized that they had already gone cold. “God — damn it,” he muttered, throwing them away with a little too much force and grabbing a veggie tray so he could just go to his room and focus on securing a future that did not involve microwave meals. When he checked his phone again, he saw that Changkyun had texted a few more times — more apologies, he didn’t mean to make things weird, whatever. Kihyun would have been endeared that he was at once already so attached to Kihyun but nonetheless trying to respect boundaries that he hadn’t even learned — but, unfortunately, Kihyun now knew Changkyun, so it was really more of a self-endearment, a being pleased that this man was falling for his traps and wiles.

He was quick to reassure him — Don’t worry, I don’t mind, and I’m also not going to steal all your money — and they proceeded to talk for a frankly disgusting amount of time about...everything. Changkyun had a pretty normal family, supportive if distant, most of them academics (Canadian academics, which was more surprising than it maybe should have been). Changkyun loved to read, but he didn’t have a lot of time for it because he was a slow reader and had a lot of scripts to go through (a humblebrag that made Kihyun want to throttle him). He wasn’t out, but he wasn’t not out either (Kihyun recalled hearing about a relatively famous musician dating some actor way below her league; when he asked, Changkyun said that it had been real, and Kihyun felt an odd stab of hatred). They talked about Kihyun’s job a little, but more about what he’d studied in school, what he did with his free time (bullet journaling, leaving hate comments on interior design Instagram pages, and wasting his time, obviously, but he didn’t tell Changkyun that last one).

When Kihyun reached for another piece of cauliflower and came up empty, he looked over to realise he’d eaten the entire 6-person tray, and it was also two o-clock in the morning. Even if he didn’t have an early morning tomorrow, Changkyun thought he did, plus Kihyun fucking hated texting as a concept and was horrified with himself that he’d done this.

_I’m so sorry,_ he wrote, _but I have work in the morning — I didn’t mean to stay up this late._

_haha no worries i have a 5am call time,_ Changkyun replied. What an idiot. He already looked like shit, probably worse on film. Kihyun felt bad for whatever makeup artist whose chair he would stumble into tomorrow.

_Please get some sleep! I won’t be here when you wake up, but maybe a few hours later. ;)_ Horrifying. Disgusting. Changkyun was forcing too much of him.

_maybe i can see you tmrw? lunch is a few hours and i think we wrap around 8 if u want to get a late dinner_

_sorry if thats weird. i dont want to pressure u or anything. i feel like lawyers are busy_

This was shockingly easy — Kihyun barely even had to try, which he was of course pleased about but also a little horrified on Changkyun’s behalf. Only a little, though. He responded:

_Clerk, not lawyer, and I’d love to go to dinner. Pick a place and let me know. Talk to you tomorrow._

Kihyun watched with great disdain as Changkyun typed and deleted, typed and deleted, the three dots going in and out as he stumbled around whatever he was trying to say. Finally, he settled on an extremely underwhelming:

_cant wait :) good night_

It was enough to make Kihyun’s lip curl in a sneer. He was in it for the connections. This was a small rung on a big ladder. He told himself this all the way until he fell asleep, dreaming of nothing.

-

Kihyun woke around seven the next morning, like he did every morning, no matter how little sleep he’d gotten or how much mental energy he’d had to waste texting a scruffy man-child who had everything Kihyun deserved.

Speaking of, he had a few texts from Changkyun, sent around 4:30; good morning, a selfie of him on set that Kihyun would bet his meagre savings account he debated sending for half an hour. Kihyun wondered if he’d slept at all — if all that came of it was that his performance today was extra shitty, it was a win, but the fact alone that he’d even wanted to talk to Kihyun for that long made him feel something uncomfortably unlike an ego boost or power trip. He didn’t think about it.

He went to a coffee shop — a different one, just in case Changkyun started to feel even more entitled to him than he already did — to work a little, tweak his resumé, send out emails that always felt more desperate than professional, even if they were always impeccably written, even if they probably only ever went to junk mail, anyway. Wonho texted him a few times with way too many emojis about how much he’d “just loved” the raw footage from Kihyun’s shoot yesterday, and Kihyun told himself he’d only grabbed his phone so fast because the vibration had startled him. He wasn’t — he wasn’t _waiting by the phone_ for some gentleman caller.

Changkyun did eventually text, though, around two. Kihyun respected himself for getting an idiotic bisexual man to triple text and simultaneously disdained said idiotic bisexual man for triple texting. Nonetheless, Changkyun, or more likely his assistant, had made reservations for dinner at nine. Before responding, Kihyun looked up the restaurant, saw the four out of four dollar signs on Google reviews, and didn’t even bother looking at the menu before texting back his confirmation.

 _can i pick you up?_ Changkyun had asked. Why was he so goddamn clingy? Even if Kihyun wanted him to, he actually couldn’t, because Kihyun had work until eight and he wasn’t going to go home just so Changkyun could pick him up. So he told him he would meet him there, and that he’d see him at nine, not a minute sooner. Maybe he’d fuck around and be late for once in his life, just to keep Changkyun on his toes.

“Hey, I have a — an appointment, tonight,” Kihyun told Hongjoong, who was sitting in the former owner’s former bizarrely decorated office, his feet up on the ornately carved desk.

“An appointment?” Hongjoong asked, grinning like a shark. “After eight? What kind of appointment, Kihyuuun?”

Kihyun fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Just an appointment. A commitment. I’m only telling you now so you aren’t shocked when we run over and I have to leave before we wrap.”

Hongjoong decoratively bit a pen, which was to say he didn’t bite it so much as gently roll it across his glossy lower lip. “Sure,” he said after a minute. Kihyun didn’t like how smug he looked, but he didn’t want to push his luck — sometimes it was just better not to know. “When’d you make the appointment, though? You know I usually like to have a _little_ advance notice before someone changes their schedule on me.”

“Recently, and the schedule has me here until eight, so I’m telling you that I will leave at eight. Which I am _legally_ allowed to do,” he said, feeling like it really needed emphasising, lest Hongjoong trap him with some bizarre loophole or impossible task.

Hongjoong took his feet off the desk and sat forward, resting his elbows on the ornate wood and then resting his triangle of a chin on his hands, not taking his eyes off Kihyun, grinning at him again. He wished he didn’t know how much he liked to use teeth when he gave a blowjob. “Sure, sure. You only have two scenes today, anyway,” he sighed, and pouted his lower lip. “You all act like I’m some sort of terrible, mythical monster who won’t grant you your freedom,” he lamented.

Kihyun couldn’t refute a word of that, but he didn’t want to confirm it, either, so he pressed his lips together and shifted his weight. “Anyway. I’m just — I should be in makeup,” he said, nodding sharply and turning on his heel, pretending like he was imagining the feel of Hongjoong’s eyes following him down the hallway.

“I appreciated what you said yesterday,” Dawn pitched-down squeaked after he’d finished applying Kihyun’s foundation.

“What? Oh, right,” Kihyun said, blinking powder out of his eyes when he opened them too soon. He was already bad at complimenting people — following up had him really out of his depth. “That’s...good.”

“I got hired to do makeup for a pretty big movie,” he continued. “I’ll still work here, though, probably. I like you guys.”

Why the fuck was literally everyone except Kihyun apparently capable of landing huge, serious jobs? His life was a fucking joke. “Congrats,” he said flatly.

“Thanks,” Dawn said, just as flatly, but he always talked like that, so Kihyun couldn’t have read into it even if he’d wanted to. He also didn’t press further, and Dawn didn’t offer any more information; Kihyun made a mental note to find out Dawn’s real name (he’d always wondered if maybe no one told him that it was only the actors who needed fake names) and Google around to see if this was an actual movie or someone’s indie horror project. He felt like neither would be more surprising than the other.

The first scene was straightforward, and _not_ with Jaehyun, most importantly -- Kihyun’s taking a bath, oh no, the maintenance guy walked in. Kihyun would have barely broken a sweat if he weren’t sort of required to. He’d then found himself passing his break in a weirdly not-awkward silence with Lucas, who was scrolling through iFunny, which apparently still existed, on his phone and occasionally chuckling at whatever he saw. Kihyun honestly wondered if Lucas had realized Kihyun had sat on the couch next to him.

The second scene was a little more elaborate -- Kihyun was playing a Victorian ghost haunting a local gay co-op. Hongjoong had written it, which meant that it was a lot more plot-heavy and bizarre than what most people were into, but despite literally everything else about Hongjoong, Kihyun always enjoyed the opportunity to actually act, never mind that it was in a porno.

 _Usually._ As Hongjoong was plucking at Kihyun’s waistcoat and positioning his pocket watch just so, he realized that he hadn’t even fucking _looked_ at the script last night. Oh, he _hated_ Changkyun — he cleared his throat. “Do we have teleprompters?” he asked, trying to keep his voice neutral and like there wasn’t actually a huge problem.

Hongjoong froze, his tiny hands gripping Kihyun’s cravat a little too tightly. “What?” he asked. It was terrifyingly enunciated.

“I left the script here last night. I don’t know my lines.”

Hongjoong took a deep breath, but didn’t let go of Kihyun’s cravat. “We do not have teleprompters, Kihyun, this is a porn production company, but _I_ have a _vision_ and _you_ are _ruining it,_ ” he hissed.

“I never forget my lines — you know I’m always prepared, and — you know what, Mingi never even knows _one_ line, and you give him _pages_ of dialogue!” Kihyun said, starting to sweat a little.

“Well. Yes,” Hongjoong said, frowning. “Mingi is an idiot.”

“Aren’t you dating him?”

“Yes?” Hongjoong said, letting the cravat go and smoothing it back down. “Well — as far as you’re all concerned. I’m… let me decide,” he said, tapping his chin with one tiny finger. “I’m _disappointed_ in you, Kihyun.”

He had no idea what it was about Hongjoong — maybe he put something in the water, maybe he was using hypnosis tactics known only to certain governments — but despite having heard that phrase a thousand times from his parents, somehow this got to him a thousand times more. And it wasn’t like he cared! Not even in the way that he could tell himself he didn’t care about certain people! It was fucking _porn_!

“I’m sorry, okay?” Kihyun said, trying not to let any emotion show. “That’s all I can say. We can postpone it, or you can get someone else, just pay me for the half day.”

“Oh, I will,” Hongjoong said sweetly. “Soooo glad you get to leave early for your ‘appointment’, right?”

“I —“

“But,” Hongjoong interrupted, stabbing one very sharp finger in the middle of Kihyun’s chest, “if an _appointment_ ever interferes with your work like this again — hmm, maybe I should say next time. Is that more threatening?” he wondered, his voice changing abruptly from hostile to thoughtful, and then back again: “ _Next time_ your _appointment_ interferes with your work, I won’t be so nice.”

“…Okay,” Kihyun said, for lack of anything else.

Hongjoong watched him with narrowed eyes for a moment, presumably expecting Kihyun to crack or cry like Mingi did whenever Hongjoong left him unattended for more than 10 minutes. Kihyun didn’t crack, though, because he never did, and Hongjoong, satisfied or maybe ambivalent or planning revenge, whirled around and flitted away to tell everyone about how Kihyun had ruined everything, pack it up, blah blah. Kihyun was too irritated to push the matter further, too irritated to even stay there a second longer than he absolutely had to — he had his keys, wallet, and phone, so he walked out, got in his car, and left without a word to anyone. Hongjoong was right, though. At least now he had plenty of time to get ready.

Kihyun’s version of tentative optimism was, of course, struck down immediately, because why not make his life even more difficult than it already was? Why fucking not? Halfway back to his apartment, his car started violently smoking and sputtering from under the hood.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Kihyun said as he eased the car onto the shoulder. Miraculously, there wasn’t much traffic, but LA drivers were next-level horrible, and he wasn’t trying to repair a fender bender on top of whatever was wrong with the engine. Probably everything. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, cursing everything in his life that had brought him to this moment, sighed because he wasn’t going to fucking _cry,_ and called Minhyuk while he leaned against the back of the car.

“Heyyy — Kihyun!” Minhyuk yelled, having picked up just before it would have kicked to voicemail. “I’m in Miami right now, everything okay?”

Kihyun pinched the bridge of his nose and took a long moment to respond. The _thump thump thump_ of some stupid deep-bass EDM song was audible through his phone’s tinny speaker. “Yeah,” he finally said. “Yeah, no, I’m fine. Have fun,” he said, and hung up.

The problem was that the rest of the people he was on speaking terms with in this godforsaken city were the coworkers who were both currently working and had just been stormed out on. He had no other choice; he hesitated as he dialed the number, but Changkyun picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, what’s up?” Kihyun hated him. Hated his stupid-deep voice, his concern.

“Um,” Kihyun said, laughing high and verging on hysterical. “I know you’re still at work, I can just — I shouldn’t have called.”

Kihyun heard some shifting and then Changkyun, muffled as he talked to someone else. “—important,” Kihyun caught at the end. “No, I’m fine, I’m glad you did. What happened?”

“My car broke down. I’m on a frontage road off 405, and I can just call a tow truck or something, but they take forever in this fucking city,” he explained.

“No, yeah, absolutely. I’m not that far. Call the tow truck for the car, I’ll come get you,” Changkyun said. It sounded like he was already walking.

Kihyun frowned. “Aren’t you still filming?” What was the point of him if Changkyun immediately lost his only actually credible job?

“It’s fine, they need to do pickup shots and stuff anyway. Send me your location, I’ll be right there,” he said. Kihyun couldn’t bring himself to say _thank you_ before he hung up. Maybe that would make Changkyun not come. Maybe that would be better. He still sent him his location, though, and now that the car was off the smoke had subsided a little, so he gingerly slid into the backseat.

One call to the tow truck company and fifteen minutes later, a charcoal Audi pulled up behind Kihyun’s car; through the windshield, he could see that it was Changkyun. He was suddenly furious with himself for allowing this to happen, with Changkyun for being such a manipulable idiot, for —

“Shit,” he said, realizing that he was still wearing a fucking Victorian dandy outfit. “God fucking damn —“ his litany was interrupted by a shy knock on the window, and Changkyun’s huge nose steaming up the glass as he peered inside.

“Hey,” he said, muffled by the glass, smiling at Kihyun like he hadn’t just forced him to leave work and pick him up because he had no other friends.

Kihyun fought down the urge to scream, smiled very thinly back at him, and opened the door. Changkyun raised his eyebrows at Kihyun’s fucking _outfit,_ but blessedly didn’t say a word about it — it was almost worse that all he actually did was look happy to see him. “Thank you,” Kihyun gritted out.

“Don’t mention it. Did you call a tow truck?” he asked.

“Yeah. They said it could be over two hours,” Kihyun sniffed.

Changkyun nodded. “Do you want to wait for —“

“ _Fuck_ no,” Kihyun snapped, pushing past him a little too brusquely to head for his car. His fucking _Audi._ God, how Kihyun hated him.

“Okay,” Changkyun said from somewhere behind him, and while Kihyun waited like a petulant child for the door to be unlocked, he noticed that Changkyun was smiling way too — tenderly. Kihyun didn’t let up with the attitude, if anything spurred on to act worse, crossing his arms and staring resolutely forward once he got in. “So, uh,” Changkyun started, clearing his throat. “Where to?”

“Three oh —“ Kihyun cut himself off. He didn’t want Changkyun to see the shitty building he lived in. Not having a roommate came a great personal cost, and Kihyun had already been forced to reveal his fucking Honda. “You know what, just.” He sighed, trying desperately to let some of his rage seep out of him, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We could just — we could go to dinner now,” he suggested.

“Oh! Of course, if you want to,” Changkyun said. Kihyun didn’t have to look at him to know he was smiling his _stupid_ little smile. “It’s pretty early, so they can probably fit us in.”

Kihyun, who was looking down on account of said pinching of said nose, realized _again_ that he was dressed like he was going to a Renaissance fair. “Or we could just — we could go to your place,” he suggested. Changkyun fell quiet long enough that Kihyun looked over at him, his expression no doubt unhinged, but Changkyun was just looking quietly pleased with himself, which disgusted Kihyun further. “Not — that isn’t a come-on. It’s just been a shitty day, and I don’t want to go home,” he said. It was probably the most honest thing he’d said to Changkyun in the entire time they’d known each other.

“Yeah, okay,” Changkyun said. His voice was so understanding that it made Kihyun’s skin crawl. “We’ll go to my place.”

-

Changkyun’s place wasn’t the crazy house in the Hills Kihyun had been half-expecting. It was understated, tucked away in a neighborhood in Venice Beach, with lots of trees out front and a porch. When Changkyun pulled into the garage, Kihyun saw that it had a surprisingly big backyard, and he hoped Changkyun didn’t have some sort of animal.

“It’s a little messy — sorry,” Changkyun said as he unlocked the back door, holding it open for Kihyun before following him inside. But it wasn’t messy like a normal place got messy. It was all nice, expensive, well-maintained, just sort of littered with individual socks and shoes everywhere, and he had a frankly disturbing amount of dishes in the kitchen sink when Kihyun could _clearly_ see a dishwasher.

“No, it’s nice,” Kihyun said, genuinely meaning it both because he’d calmed down a little and because he _did_ genuinely mean it. He felt out of place, used to his shithole of an apartment despite his high standards and higher self-opinion. It was an uncomfortable feeling, made worse by the knowledge that, really, it shouldn’t be so unfamiliar.

But then Changkyun put his hand on the small of his back to show him around — to be fair, it _was_ a little messier than it had seemed at first glance, and Kihyun made a mental note to harangue Changkyun into getting a maid if he was going to be coming over with any kind of frequency, but. It could have been a lot worse. Changkyun, for once, had pleasantly surprised him.

“My clothes would probably fit you,” Changkyun was saying. “If you want to change, I mean. Not that — you look great, don’t get me wrong. Maybe a little overdressed for takeout,” he teased, his pink mouth curving into a wry little smile.

Much as he would love to spit in the face of such an offer, Kihyun really, really did not want to be wearing a Victorian three-piece suit replica from a porn studio any longer than he absolutely had to. “Mind if I shower, too? I probably smell like car exhaust,” he said.

“Yeah, of course,” Changkyun said. “Um — wait here,” he added, and scurried back to, presumably, his room. He re-emerged, his arms full of clothes, a pair of what looked like unused slippers on top. Kihyun tried not to think about it too much. “The guest room’s right here —“ he walked a little past Kihyun and opened a door, revealing said guest room, “— it has a fully stocked bathroom and everything. I’ll just, um. Take as much time as you want.”

Kihyun took the clothes, watching Changkyun carefully for any sign of — something, anything other than deference, trust, earnestness, and finding none. “Thank you,” he said again, his voice clipped, and turned on his heel to all but run for the guest room, accidentally slamming the door behind him, so Changkyun didn’t see the emotion that dared to well up on his face.

As it turned out, Changkyun’s house was _really_ nice — Kihyun hadn’t felt water pressure like that in years, and the entire bathroom was immaculate, pristine, perfect, all the appliances new and visibly expensive. It was everything Kihyun wanted for himself, if a little scaled down. Changkyun’s shirt smelled like detergent, smelled clean, and it occurred to Kihyun that he didn’t really know what _Changkyun_ smelled like. He was horrified to have even had such a thought.

After towel-drying and semi-styling his hair as best he could, Kihyun cautiously opened the door. Spotting no one outside, he shuffled out in his brand-new slippers that Changkyun evidently kept around for guests. “Changkyun?” he called.

“In here!” Changkyun called from somewhere vaguely leftward.

“Did you cook something?” Kihyun asked as he found him in the kitchen, and had his question immediately answered. It looked like Changkyun had ordered an entire menu’s worth of food.

“I can’t really cook,” Changkyun explained, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry. I promise I’m doing you a favor. Um, do you like Russian food? I just got one of everything, and if you hate it, we can get something else.”

What a fucking waste. The cost of all of this — most of which they wouldn’t even eat — could probably cover Kihyun’s rent twice over. “No, I’m sure I’ll find something I like,” he said, carefully peeking into a few of the bags. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to keep saying thank you,” Changkyun said gently, which made Kihyun feel as if he’d been flayed alive, so he resolutely ignored him.

With Kihyun having picked a few things that weren’t fish, pickled, or both, they settled into Changkyun’s extremely comfortable couch. He sipped his soup while Changkyun turned the enormous TV on; Kihyun wondered if he ever watched himself on it. Kihyun probably would, if he had something other than himself getting fucked to watch, and even _that_ he scrutinized and picked apart, always so desperate to be the best in a room that often just ignored him.

After some scrolling, Changkyun put on _Fire Walk with Me._ “Have you seen Twin Peaks?” he asked as Kihyun stirred sour cream (Changkyun’s had _not_ been expired) into his soup.

“Yes,” Kihyun lied.

“Oh. We can watch something else, if you want,” he offered, grabbing some bread stuffed with something and taking a bite. Kihyun watched, disgusted, as a single shred of cabbage dropped into his lap.

“It’s fine,” Kihyun said, sighing. Changkyun’s couch was white, somehow pristine despite the fact that Changkyun was almost certainly some degree of slovenly; he wondered why he was letting him eat blood red soup on it, if he would kick him out if he poured it onto the cushions. “I’ve never seen the movie.”

“Cool. It’s really good, I promise,” Changkyun said, settling in, too, keeping a familiar but careful distance from Kihyun, who couldn’t decide if he wanted him closer or to push him away.

About an hour into the movie, after they’d more or less finished eating (Kihyun had snuck back to the guest bathroom to surreptitiously brush his teeth with the pre-packaged toothbrush and toothpaste he’d noticed earlier), Kihyun steeled himself for what he knew he had to do, and sidled up to Changkyun, leaning into him.

“Cold,” he explained.

“Oh,” Changkyun said, sounding distressed. “Do you want — I can turn the heat on,” he offered.

“No, it’s fine,” Kihyun said, his voice quieter, higher, performative. He slid his hand around Changkyun’s middle, and, after a long moment of hesitation, Changkyun slid his arm around Kihyun’s shoulders.

Kihyun was no stranger to sex, obviously. He was clinical about it, could fuck his coworkers and look like he wanted nothing except Jaehyun’s cock, Ten’s mouth, whatever, and he could go back to hating them as soon as the cameras were off. This was no different, really, so Kihyun attributed it to the lack of a camera that he could hear his blood rushing in his ears, that his hands weren’t as steady toying with the hem of Changkyun’s shirt as they were when he fastened someone’s restraints.

Changkyun, for his part, had stiffened, not unresponsive to Kihyun’s touches, but almost afraid of them, maybe afraid of them stopping —

“Kihyun, if this is, like — I don’t want you to feel like you have to —“

“Oh, my god, shut the fuck up,” Kihyun said, surging up to kiss him, biting his lower lip in reprimand before he did almost anything else. Changkyun responded beautifully, surprisingly _,_ and when Kihyun opened his mouth to taste him, he found that Changkyun had brushed his teeth, too. He pulled back, his hand full of Changkyun’s hair, laughing at him. “Don’t want me to feel like I have to _what?_ Kiss you even though you brushed your teeth because you hoped I would?” Changkyun just looked at him, his expression something different entirely from the bumbling idiot he usually was in Kihyun’s presence and probably the world at large. “That was a question,” Kihyun snapped, pulling sharp on Changkyun’s hair.

“Yes,” he said, his voice wrecked already, but so low and rough that Kihyun couldn’t help but be into it.

“Is that why you bought me all that dinner? So I would put out?” he continued, moving his leg over Changkyun’s thighs, straddling him. “You think I fuck on the first date, Changkyun?”

Changkyun looked terrified, but Kihyun could feel his dick getting hard against his ass, so he was even less concerned than he might have been otherwise. “I fuck on the first date,” Changkyun mumbled, which was possibly the only right answer, so Kihyun rewarded him by kissing him again, sucking his lower lip into his mouth, his other hand sliding up Changkyun’s shirt. The movements were practiced, automatic, but Kihyun was still hyperaware of himself, second-guessing what he was doing, wondering why he wanted so much more.

After a few more minutes of that, Kihyun kissing Changkyun into the couch while he thought about fucking him into the mattress, Changkyun put his hands on his shoulders and pulled back, his mouth red from Kihyun’s. “Kihyun, we — shouldn’t.”

Kihyun frowned. “We already are,” he pointed out, reaching down between them to squeeze Changkyun’s cock, by then fully hard. Changkyun moaned and leaned forward into Kihyun’s shoulder, but didn’t give in, his hands still pushing Kihyun away. “Jesus — _what?”_ Kihyun snapped, annoyed.

“It’s nothing,” Changkyun said into Kihyun’s shoulder, so Kihyun shoved him, hard, back against the couch.

He glared at him. “You obviously want to say something, so say it,” he snapped.

Changkyun looked down at his lap, then off to the side when he realized that it was actually more Kihyun’s lap, and opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fucking fish. Kihyun was _just_ about to bludgeon him with a pillow or actually pour soup in his lap when he _finally_ said, “I — I actually do know, um. Who you are.”

Kihyun went very, very still. Changkyun still did not look at him. He cleared his throat, said, “Someone you picked up at a café and are about to fuck on your couch,” but it sounded unconvincing even to himself.

Changkyun was wringing his hands together, and Kihyun could see in the dim of the shadow he cast over him against the light of the TV that he was flushed bright pink. He fucking _knew._ Kihyun could tell. “I…” he cleared his throat, tried again: “Does, uh. Does the name — Armand, um. Armand Austin, mean anything to you?”

Kihyun wanted to die. Or kill Changkyun. Or kill them both. “No,” he lied. “Should it?”

Changkyun finally worked up the nerve to look at him for a long moment. He looked as miserable as Kihyun felt. “It’s okay — like, I don’t want to be weird about it, but I feel like it would also be weird if I pretended like I didn’t know when I _do,_ so —“

“Know _what,”_ Kihyun snapped, interrupting him.

“…Well,” Changkyun said, clearing his throat again. “That — you are an actor. Um. Of a very specific genre, which is totally fine, and I completely respect it —“

“So all you’re doing here is admitting you watch porn,” Kihyun said flatly.

Changkyun didn’t even look embarrassed. Kihyun wanted to fucking backhand him. “Well — yeah,” he said. “Which is gross, it’s inarguably, um — watching porn is gross, it’s embarrassing, but _making_ it is different, that’s just fulfilling a demand that very much exists —“

“Oh, I fucking _hate_ you,” Kihyun said, shoving Changkyun back into the couch with a hand on his throat.”You are so — you are _infuriating._ I have barely known you one day, and you _accuse_ me —“

“Kihyun,” Changkyun said, hesitating a moment before he decided to gently cover Kihyun’s wrist with his hand. He noticed it was warm. “Please don’t — you don’t have to be, like, anything. I’m just trying to say I know what your other job is, and it’s fine, and it would be weird if we were going to do this and I knew but you didn’t know that I knew.”

Kihyun dragged his eyes up to look at him for a long, long moment, weighing his options. What did it matter, really? He obviously _did_ know, nothing was going to change that. Kihyun could, at the very least, make him feel like shit about it first, could take what he wanted from him and leave him in his _stupid_ house, feeling as worthless as he’d tried to make Kihyun feel, as worthless as Changkyun _should_ feel, and wanting him for the rest of his miserable life. “So, what,” he said. “You stalked me or something? You saw your favorite porn star in some coffee shop, and you decided to come sit down, get my number, trick me into thinking I should —“

“ _No!”_ Changkyun said, looking genuinely horrified. “No, I promise — I didn’t recognize you immediately, and there were no other seats —“

“Bullshit,” Kihyun snapped. “You recognized me, because you’ve come in your hand, alone, probably right here, watching me moan for a camera and pretending I was moaning for you,” he said, reaching down to squeeze Changkyun’s cock again, purposeful this time, mean.

“Kihyun — fuck, I — I like _you,_ not —“

Kihyun slapped him to shut him up. Not hard, only enough to get his attention, maybe enough to sting, but the noise Changkyun made was fucking _sinful. “Oh,”_ Kihyun said, disdainful, laughing. “So that’s what you’re into? You want me to fucking _punish_ you? Look at me,” Kihyun said when Changkyun wouldn’t, grabbing his jaw between his thumb and fingers to make him, and Changkyun’s eyes were wide, but he didn’t look afraid. His hand had crept up Kihyun’s thigh, almost to his hips, as shy and entitled as the rest of him.

“You think you can just take whatever you want, don’t you,” Kihyun continued, moving his ass against Changkyun’s cock, hating the way he loved the feel of it against him.

“No,” Changkyun said weakly, his fingers digging into Kihyun’s side now.

“No? Then why are you taking it anyway?” Kihyun said, grabbing Changkyun’s hand and pulling it to his ass, goading him and doing himself a favor all in one. Changkyun didn’t disappoint, squeezing with his big hands, pulling Kihyun closer.

Changkyun’s lips were parted, his breath coming heavy, and he was looking at Kihyun like he couldn’t believe his luck. It hurt to look back at, so Kihyun kissed him again, kissing to bruise, to punish him for dragging Kihyun down to this level. Changkyun was so responsive, like he was putting his whole heart into it where Kihyun was putting years of practice, licking into his mouth while his hands pushed up Kihyun’s shirt — _Changkyun’s shirt —_ just to feel him. Kihyun’s body felt like a live wire, and this was better than sex the way Kihyun usually had it, which made him hate Changkyun more. He was mediocre, average —

“Aah — Changk—“ Kihyun got out when Changkyun lifted him and flipped them in one easy movement, Kihyun laid out on the couch underneath him, Changkyun’s hands on either side of him. Kihyun went red, furious, and kicked Changkyun with the back of his heel since he seemed to think Kihyun belonged with his legs wrapped around him.

“Why are you doing this,” Changkyun asked, his voice rough, not at all looking like he wanted to stop.

Kihyun rolled his hips up into him, letting Changkyun feel how hard he was for it, too, which was more than he deserved. “I should fucking gag you,” he said.

“Okay,” Changkyun replied. “But is this —“

“ _This_ isn’t anything,” Kihyun snapped, his head suddenly a little clearer. “This is because you want to watch me take a dick, watch someone who isn’t you come all over my face, watch me _beg —-“_

Changkyun closed the distance between them and kissed Kihyun first this time, which both infuriated and impressed him — he’d been convinced Changkyun was a fucking invertebrate. From this angle, he was relentless, barely letting Kihyun catch his breath, the reminder of the Kihyun he paid a $29.99 monthly subscription for giving him renewed vigor, or maybe he wanted to take what Kihyun would never admit he already had.

Kihyun wrapped his arms around his neck, not to be outdone, especially not now, and _especially_ not by _him_. He tangled his fingers in Changkyun’s hair, pulling it hard to let him know when he was doing something right, dragged his fingers down his broad back, digging his nails in. At that, Changkyun sat back and stripped his shirt off, tossing it aside without a thought as he came back down to suck a bruise just below Kihyun’s jaw.

“You want it to hurt,” Kihyun said, digging his nails in again, gratified when Changkyun moaned into his skin, hips jerking against Kihyun. “You want _me_ to hurt you,” he added, his voice high and breathless, on the verge of a moan when Changkyun used teeth. He pulled back, those lips spit-slick and swollen, hair hanging in his eyes.

“I don’t want anything except what you’ll give me,” he said, uncomfortably earnest even now, and Kihyun wished he was smart enough to realize that saying shit like that was the fastest way to tempt him into violence. But he was an idiot, so Kihyun knew against his will that he was saying it because he meant it. Before Kihyun could come up with a suitable reply, Changkyun was kissing down his chest, moving down to settle between his legs, pulling the pants he’d given him down roughly and just enough for Kihyun’s traitorous cock to spring free.

“You — fffuck,” Kihyun hissed, digging his fingers into Changkyun’s hair as he swallowed him down, no hesitation, good as an honest-to-god pro. “ _You_ should be in porn — then you’d actually be good at — ah — something,” he gasped, his hips jerking off the couch. Changkyun didn’t even try to keep him down, because of course he didn’t — he _would_ be the type to want to gag on it like a washed up martyr, and who was Kihyun to deny him something mutually beneficial? He rolled his hips up again, testing, and Changkyun moaned around him, as predictable and pathetic as ever.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Kihyun continued, fucking into Changkyun’s mouth as he swallowed around him over and over, like he was a nymphomaniac on death row and Kihyun was his last meal. “Someone else telling you what to do, who to fuck and — how,” he said, his voice catching.

“Not someone else,” Changkyun pulled off to gasp, his deep voice raw, panting and giving him a meaningful look that lasted all of a second before he couldn’t handle it and took Kihyun back down as deep as he could. Which had been for the best, because Kihyun didn’t think he could handle it either.

He started sucking him off in earnest, running his tongue up the length and over the head of Kihyun’s cock, sloppy about it, his mouth wrecked. He let Kihyun fuck up into it whenever he wanted, but he was losing cognitive function the longer Changkyun sucked his soul out, and soon all he could do was dig his fingernails into his scalp. “Chan — Changkyun,” he gasped, head tipped back and eyes closed, his arms shaking, the priceless original to the knock-off reproductions immortalized on[ BigDragon.com](http://bigdragon.com), and Changkyun didn’t even try to look. He didn’t warn him when he came, just let him choke on it and swallow him down while Kihyun pulled his hair and jerked his hips up over and over and over, coming like he hadn’t in years.

Changkyun pulled off, wiping his mouth, still looking at Kihyun like he couldn’t believe it. Kihyun fell back against the cushions, catching his breath and hating Changkyun.

“Are you —“

“Call me a fucking Uber,” Kihyun snapped, still breathless, staring resolutely at the ceiling. “And do not contact me again.”

Changkyun was quiet for a long moment, then Kihyun felt him get off the couch. He took the opportunity to pull his pants back up and fix his hair, hating that Changkyun would get to see what he’d done to him.

“Enter your address, please,” Changkyun said in a quiet voice, standing as far away as he could while still offering Kihyun the phone. He saw he’d brought a wet washcloth, too, but was too afraid to do anything except let the water drip on his expensive floor. Kihyun snatched the phone, typed his address in, and whipped it back at Changkyun, who barely caught it. “I’ll just — I’ll go in the other room,” he said, not meeting his eyes, except this time Kihyun couldn’t meet his either. He left the phone on the coffee table and paused before he walked away, mumbled “I’m sorry” one more time, and Kihyun listened to him try to walk away as quietly as he could, like he was trying to disappear.

He looked at the phone. Changkyun had at least had the sense to call him an Uber Black, but he’d also left the phone out like some fucking _test,_ and Kihyun had never been more furious in his life — never more furious at one specific person, much less at one specific person he was _very_ certain he did not care about. Kihyun couldn’t sit with it, so he got up, looking detachedly at the mess they’d made of the couch, and walked out the door. He didn’t speak to the Uber driver and the Uber driver didn’t speak to him the whole hour-long drive home.

Despite almost everything about him, he _had_ dated people, cared for them, and moved on. What he’d had with Changkyun had been nothing — for Kihyun, he was no more than a means to an end, and Kihyun was every bit the theoretical celebrity who abandons their lover once they outgrow them. But it still ached, and it still kept him from falling asleep, from taking off Changkyun’s shirt when he finally crawled into bed, remembering how it felt to be truly miserable.

-

At work the next day, the mood was tense. Kihyun had initially assumed that Hongjoong had told everyone how horrible and cruel he was or whatever, but when he asked Hongjoong if he had, he just laughed as if it hadn’t been worth his time at all.

The building that housed the Big Dragon production studios was actually a former theatre, which had apparently been deliberate — Kihyun had heard the former owner used to put on private productions on top of the porn thing. But a room with the smaller, secondary stage hadn’t been used in years, too small to fit a film crew and too empty for anyone to bother hanging out there, which was why Kihyun was sitting on the edge of the stage eating someone’s sliced mango he’d stolen from the fridge.

A few minutes into his until then blessedly peaceful exile, he heard Lucas’ untied — for fashion or because he didn’t know how, Kihyun wasn’t sure — Timbs stomping down the hallway that led through to the backstage, but didn’t look up when he sat down next to him.

“Oh YEAH,” he said, grabbing his pec and pointing at Kihyun’s mango. “I was looking for that! You can eat it, though, dude.”

Kihyun took his time chewing, swallowing loudly while he looked up at him, too emotionally raw to be anything other than dully irritated. He raised his eyebrows at him when Lucas continued to do his best impression of a mannequin and gestured with the mango. “I mean —? Do you want it back?”

“Huh? Oh! Nah, man, it’s cool,” Lucas said, reaching over with his enormous hands to pinch a piece. It may as well have been a grain of rice, Jesus, poor Taeyong. Kihyun frowned down at the mango, but didn’t stop him. “Sorry you’re having a bad day, dog,” he continued after a while.

Kihyun bristled. “Who said I was having a bad day,” he said.

“I don’t know,” Lucas said, sounding like he really, genuinely did not know. “Jeonghan said you were scratchier than usual.”

“I wasn’t — “ Kihyun ducked his head and rubbed his temples, closing his eyes. He was in hell. He had died or something. Maybe Changkyun had murdered him. And now he was in hell, sitting next to a hot, straight Gumby who would fuck anything with a tight ass and couldn’t figure out how a sentence worked. Why was Kihyun in the professional position to have scratched Jeonghan? Which, yes, he had, but he wasn’t just going to _admit_ it.

“Hey, it’s chill, dude,” Lucas said, his stupidity almost enough to make him sound enlightened and serene. He reached through the triangle of Kihyun’s head, shoulder and arm to pinch another slice of mango. “Shit happens, I get it. One time I sent this chick a Val-O-Gram but I also sent this other chick one, but like, then the both kinda got mad at me and then we had a threesome,” Lucas explained.

Kihyun turned his head slowly to look at him, completely mystified as to where the fuck they had found this man. “Thank you, Lucas,” he said.

“Fersuure,” Lucas said, nodding his head.

They fell into another silence — confused on Kihyun’s part, probably equally confused on Lucas’ even if he probably couldn’t name any emotions — until Ten poked his head through the door. “Ugh, _there_ you are!” he hissed at Lucas. “We have been looking _everywhere_ for you!”

Kihyun had never owned a pet, but he felt uncomfortably like Ten was speaking to a very stupid, very small dog. Lucas, of course, perked up. “Haha, sorry,” he said.

Ten looked between the two of them, seemed to weigh his options for a moment, sighed, and came over to sit in Lucas’ lap, facing Kihyun.

“Oh, my God, I didn’t do anything with him, I don’t _want_ to do anything with him, _please_ just wait until I get out of —“

“What? No, shut up, hahaha,” Ten said, draping his arm around Lucas’ shoulder. Lucas meanwhile looked confused/hopeful, obviously unsure if they were going to fuck or if he was being used only as a chair. “No, Jeonghan said you were scratchy, and like, my skincare routine kind of needs me to have perfect skin, sooo…”

Kihyun raised his eyebrows. “ _So?”_

Ten shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know. What’s up?”

“What’s up,” Kihyun repeated.

“Ugh, _no,_ like,” Ten huffed for a second, searching for the right word. “Like, are you okay? Are you… like… _sad_ …?”

“What the _fuck_ is _wrong with you people,_ ” Kihyun said, raising his voice too loud and standing up too fast, the mango toppling to the floor.

“Aw, my mango,” Lucas said.

Ten looked at him in a way that Kihyun thought might be patient and understanding, but his face was usually kind of unreadable, so it was anyone’s guess. “Would you chill? You’re too high-strung, you know.”

“Yeah, Jaehyun recommended a fucking juice cleanse,” Kihyun snapped. “Just because we all fuck each other doesn’t mean we are anything more than _coworkers,_ ” he continued. “I don’t give a shit what Jeonghan said. I wasn’t supposed to be, like, gentle, and he has fucking acrylics! Nothing is _wrong —“_

“Ohhh,” Ten said, pursing his geometric lips. “Did your boyfriend find your page or something?”

Kihyun froze. “What?”

“Like, did he find it? Or was he creepy or something? That happened to me one time and I kind of went crazy too, haha,” he said.

“He set his car on fire,” Lucas supplied helpfully.

“No, baby, Taeyong did that,” Ten said, petting Lucas’ hair without looking at him. Lucas closed his eyes and leaned into it. Maybe they were drugging him?

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Kihyun gritted out, unable to just let shit like that lie. “Wasn’t.”

Ten shrugged. “Guy you were dating, whatever. Someone you, like, maybe wanted to fuck. Maybe you just sucked his dick, I don’t know, but it happens, honey.”

“Aren’t you younger than me?”

Ten just shrugged again. “Like, whatever, I’m just saying it sucks and you should just tell Hongjoong, he’ll give you some time off.”

“It is _my_ personal life,” Kihyun said.

“I mean, it’s probably gonna get back to him anyway,” he said, tapping Lucas’ shoulder, jerking him awake or snapping him out of thinking about Roblox or something. “So it might as well be from you and you might as well, like, get something out of it!” He said, adding a long, drawn out ‘byeeee’ as he and Lucas walked back out the door, leaving Kihyun alone with his too-many feelings and Lucas’ mango, realizing that he kind of had a point. Big Dragon wasn’t a huge company, and it was full of an insane amount of extremely evil and talkative twinks; Kihyun may as well throw himself on top of the grenade.

-

Hongjoong had been corralling Mingi when Kihyun had asked him, so he’d actually had success with relatively minimal workplace intimidation. He was four days in to his time off, unused to the feeling of no work, especially unused to feeling twisted up about every single thing about Changkyun rather than how he was going to pay his bills. He’d considered tossing his phone out the window multiple times, or to put it in a waterproof bag and seal it in a block of ice, but the stupid expectation of _something_ always stopped him.

He’d settled into the couch Friday night to miserably watch TV, but the second thing he flipped to was _fucking_ Memories of Murder, and he threw the remote at the TV when he saw Changkyun’s idiotic face. He was right — he did look worse on camera.

His phone buzzed when he got up to retrieve the remote. “Oh my _god,_ ” he hissed, seeing that it was from Changkyun.

_you left your clothes and your shoes here_

Kihyun wanted to tell him to burn them and go fuck himself, but the shoes had been expensive. _Mail them_ he wrote back.

_i can bring them by your house if you want i dont have to come in or anything_

Kihyun seethed, but, after thinking about it for a minute, he liked the idea of Changkyun being his courier. Let him waste his time. He texted him his address and nothing else.

Of course, _just_ in case, Kihyun spent the next twenty minutes primping, re-doing his eyeliner, and picking out his most casual-yet-sophisticated cardigan, turtleneck, and jeans. He heard a knock at the door as he was finishing his eyebrows.

He walked over to the entryway, but didn’t open the door or even look through the peephole. He watched the shadow of Changkyun’s feet against the light that always got through the busted seal as he knocked again, waited another few seconds, then started mumbling something through the door.

“I, uh, don’t know if you’re home. Hopefully this is the right apartment,” he started. Kihyun crossed his arms as tightly as he could. “But I just…I’m sorry. I just need you to know that I mean it, and that I don’t look down on you, or anything — I just want to look at you,” he said. “And it’s okay if you never want me to again. I get that it’s private, and I wish you’d gotten to tell me before I’d ruined everything, not so this — just so you don’t have to feel however you feel because of —“

“Will you shut _up,_ ” Kihyun threw open the door to say. Changkyun blinked at him, stunned, which gave Kihyun a second to take him in. He looked like shit, at least, which was gratifying.

“Kihyun,” Changkyun said, like he couldn’t believe it, even though he was standing in front of Kihyun’s apartment.

“You seriously used my shit as a ploy to come to my house and force me to listen to you again,” Kihyun said.

“What? No! I just — were you listening?” Kihyun didn’t dignify him with an answer. “I’m sorry, and I’ll leave you alone, I just wanted you to know.”

Kihyun scoffed. “What, so I don’t spill to the press? Pay me off, then, if you want to be sure.” It was an empty threat and they both knew it; it hadn’t even felt good to say.

“I don’t care,” Changkyun said. “You could, if you wanted.”

Everything he fucking did got to Kihyun somehow, made it hard to think and impossible to lie as much as he needed to. “So, what,” Kihyun started after a moment, looking down to make it easier. “You’re sorry, fine. I don’t know what you want from me,” he said, which was uncomfortably close to the truth. He’d been telling way too much of it, lately.

“I don’t want anything from you,” Changkyun said, looking up at him through his heavy hair. Kihyun wanted to shove it out of his face. Maybe it would make him handsome in a way that Kihyun could justify to himself when he was thinking back on all the shit he regretted in his life.

“So then why did you come,” Kihyun snapped.

“Your clothes,” Changkyun said, his voice small, but they both knew that wasn’t true, either, and for once Changkyun figured it out in time. “And I wanted you to know — all of that. I think you’re incredible, and different than anyone I’ve ever met, and I know it’s my fault for ruining everything before… before it could really start, I guess, but I’ll regret it forever,” he said. Kihyun wanted more than anything to hate him, wished he had the strength to tell him to fuck off. “Oh —“ he continued, “— and I wanted to say that, if it’s a question of taste or value, being in Hallmark movies is a lot worse. The general population would probably agree,” he said.

Kihyun stared at him like he’d grown a second head for a minute, shocked by the kind of gross outpouring of Changkyun’s feelings — he kind of preferred when he looked like an expressionless, malleable idiot, because whatever tiny faces he was making now were making Kihyun feel things he didn’t want to — made him feel like giving him the time of day in the first place, which in turn made him realize that Changkyun kind of had a point.

“Huh,” he said, frowning. “That… actually isn’t inaccurate or idiotic,” Kihyun said.

“Do you think the other things I say are idiotic…?” Changkyun wondered, but Kihyun didn’t answer that.

“I still don’t know what you want me to say,” Kihyun sighed, but the fire had started to go out of his voice, and he was beginning to realize how exhausted he felt. “I mean, I hate you. I do, completely,” he said, but he was looking down at his shoes — the slippers from Changkyun’s house he hadn’t realized he’d stolen, and Changkyun’s platform Dr. Martens, fucking disgusting — and he knew that he was going to something really, really stupid, like forgive him, or let him into his house, or, god forbid, _kiss_ him.

“That’s okay,” Changkyun said, and Kihyun glanced up at him — he had clearly noticed the shift, because the dopey smile on his face was tentative, but _way_ too there for Kihyun to rationally find him attractive. Even though it, like everything else, somehow still worked for him.

He scrutinized him for another moment, leaning against the doorframe, and said, “So is this just a drawn-out version of the punishment thing?” He snorted a laugh when Changkyun immediately went pink, and cut him off before he could start apologizing some more. “I was kidding! Jesus.”

“I’m sorry,” Changkyun said again.

“For your weird kinks or for humiliating me?”

“Both, I guess, but more for — I didn’t mean to,” Changkyun said, looking genuinely heartbroken. “I tried to say it before. I like you. I recognized you, but that was it. I wanted to talk to you and have dinner with you last week and probably every day after because I like _you._ I was getting to know you, and I don’t know anything about — um. Armand,” he said.

“Except that he makes you come harder than any other performer every time except when you get to fuck him for real?” Kihyun said, raising his eyebrows.

“Well,” Changkyun said, turning pink again, cute enough to almost make Kihyun crack a smile. “I deserved that, I guess.”

He didn’t, but Kihyun didn’t have to tell him that yet. He also felt mildly bad about slapping him, no matter how good it had felt in the moment or how much Changkyun had liked it — Hongjoong had seminars about consent all the time kind of as an excuse to have a captive audience, but also probably at least a little bit to educate. Regardless. Kihyun would apologize one day, as soon as he figured out how. “Just — come in,” he sighed, standing back and holding the door wide enough to let Changkyun in. He absolutely refused to think about the deeper meaning of that.

Changkyun ducked inside (not that he was tall at _all,_ much less to the point where a doorframe in a building built in the 90s would be an inconvenience) and toed off his shoes, looking around. “It’s a shithole, I know,” Kihyun said.

“No! No, not at all,” Changkyun said. “I like it. I can see your hand in it.”

Kihyun looked away at that, inadvertently back toward the black leather couch he’d saved up for when he worked at the firm, the lines of the living room in general. He supposed he wasn’t _not_ proud of it, for what it was, even though he hated Changkyun even more for making him figure out what optimism felt like. “Thank you,” he said slowly, like it was a word he was still learning. “I’m not going to offer to get you anything,” he added, continuing to the living room and sitting on the couch.

“That’s okay,” Changkyun said as he trailed behind him, and when Kihyun made no invitation for him to sit next to him, he dropped unceremoniously to the floor, posture terrible and looking up at Kihyun.

“I’m still — angry with you,” Kihyun said. “You’re lucky you debased yourself with Hallmark movies.”

“They finally paid off,” Changkyun agreed, smiling up at him.

“No, I actually don’t think so. That’s — that’s really a career low, Changkyun,” he said. “But. Look at you now, I guess,” he said, and the thing was he wasn’t even trying to use their situation as leverage. He shocked himself with how little he cared about whatever ambition he’d dressed up their weeklong tryst as.

“If you ever have any interest in, like, TV acting —“

“God, I really do need to gag you, I don’t give a shit about that right now,” Kihyun sighed. “I’m just processing all the shit you’ve seen me do.” To say nothing of the shit he’d actually done to him. Changkyun was looking very determinedly at the floor.

“I mean — I don’t watch… all the time,” he said.

Kihyun glared at him. “Okay, then what’s your favorite video? This is a test,” he warned him.

Changkyun was still bright pink, but he seemed to think about it for a moment. “There’s one — I think you’re a prince or something. It looked like it was shot at a real castle.” It had been — Hongjoong’s family apparently owned a small château in Montréal, and they’d shot on location a few summers ago.Kihyun had technically been a count. He let the silence hang for a moment, wanting to see what Changkyun would do, pleased when he continued: “…did I pass?”

Kihyun pursed his lips again, crossed and uncrossed his legs. “That one’s tasteful,” he said, and by Changkyun’s grin he clearly figured out that that meant _yes. “_ But if — I’m not saying I’m going to fucking marry you or anything, but if we keep seeing each other, you _have_ to cancel your subscription.”

“How do you know I have a subscription…” Changkyun mumbled, to which Kihyun gave him a very scathing look. “But — yeah, of course. To be honest, I haven’t watched much in a few years, which was why I didn’t know if it was actually you.”

“I’m that forgettable?” Kihyun said, baiting and teasing him all at once.

“No,” Changkyun said, smiling at him like he’d hung the moon, which made Kihyun want to kick him. “Definitely not.”

Kihyun looked at him again, tried to really look, to work out if he was just being a dick or trying to take advantage, and decided that, even if he was, Kihyun had dealt with worse. Kihyun had _been_ worse. Before he could think about it, he was on the floor, too, crawling back into Changkyun’s lap.

“What —“

“How many times do I have to tell you to shut up,” Kihyun hissed, and kissed his stupid fucking mouth. Changkyun melted into it like the most touch-starved man on the planet, which made Kihyun jump back, skittish as a cat, the feeling of being held so tightly and kissed by someone who cared about him as more than a coworker too unfamiliar.

Changkyun blinked at him, and Kihyun sniffed, trying to act like it was nothing. “For future reference, I’m not going to just act out all your fantasies with you,” he said.

“Of course not,” Changkyun agreed, gazing up at him.

“And I don’t bottom all the time,” he continued.

“That works out great for me,” Changkyun said.

“And — I’m very mean, and I hate sleeping in the same bed as other people,” he tried.

“I have a California king,” Changkyun said.

Kihyun dropped his head to Changkyun’s shoulder, groaning. “I hate you,” he said after a moment.

“That’s okay,” Changkyun replied, his voice soft, because he finally knew Kihyun was lying, so Kihyun repaid him with honesty when he took his face in his hands, kissed him again, and again, and again, aware the whole time of how much he _wanted_ to, realizing how much he always had.

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warnings: 
> 
> These are spoilers for the reveal -- read on only if you ordinarily need sex work tagged (or if you just like spoilers) 
> 
> \----- 
> 
> 1\. Kihyun is a porn actor (for a very ethically run and very fictional studio don't worry they have great benefits and a union), and there are mentions of/allusions to Kihyun having very offscreen sex with other porn actors who work there (Jaehyun, Jeonghan, Ten, Hongjoong if you SQUINT), but nothing more than passing references. I'm treating his work environment like if a porn studio were a gay, woke version of The Office LOL they are all just coworkers who respect each other but who Kihyun hates anyway because he's mean. :) 
> 
> 2\. Kihyun slaps Changkyun when they're about to have sex (and THINKS about slapping Changkyun often); HOWEVER, he's a seasoned porn actor and knows how to do it 1. correctly 2. where it doesn't really hurt, just conveys that, like. Slap! As much as Changkyun wants him to just backhand him sexually :/ 
> 
> 3\. Kihyun's Oscar-winning ex is Hui :) (Chungha won best actress the same year)
> 
> 4\. Dawn went out to a club randomly, met Hyuna and Hui who instantly sort of kidnapped him and of course offered him a job on Hui's Next Big Film <3
> 
> 5\. G-Dragon is the founder/owner of the porn studio
> 
> Thank you for reading, sorry for unleashing this onto the world!! I'm a weeb by trade but this was very fun to write. Please comment and let me know what you think bc I've never written an actual fic before and I cannot believe my first one was... this


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